Broken promises? Future of Qatar’s World Cup stadiums still up in the air

T he workers’ accommodation next to Ahmad bin Ali Stadium is at least two thirds empty now. Those who remain can make the short walk from the central block to the mess room, where food and drink are available. The other two structures have virtually been hollowed out since the World Cup: one of the alleys between them is all but blocked by a pile of bedframes and mattresses, of which there are plenty because the inhabitants lived four to a room. Presumably someone, at some point, will arrive to clear up the extensive clutter; further behind is a spread of binbags and other trash. An employee estimates 100 men remain: they are contracted to the two firms who built the venue and, while the showpiece event is long gone, there is still work to be done here.

Exactly how much remains to be seen. These workers appear to be carrying out routine maintenance but, according to Qatar’s post-tournament legacy plan for the site, Ahmad bin Ali Stadium will soon be scaled back from its present 45,000 capacity to a more manageable 20,000. The removed seats in its upper tier will be donated to venues domestically and “nations in need of sporting infrastructure”; a newly compact arena will be neatly sized for domestic and continental games played by the local club, Al Rayyan.

The question is when, exactly, any of this will happen. Qatar’s future promises for its World Cup venues appear entirely logical: they evince understanding that a tiny state should have no need for eight stadiums that each hold between 40,000 and 89,000 supporters so five of them are due to downsize and Lusail Stadium, which staged the final, is slated to be repurposed entirely. Stadium 974, partly fitted out with shipping containers, has been celebrated as the